


The Problem

by DarthFucamus



Series: First Order Tech [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Smutember2017, female oc - Freeform, smutember day 12: fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthFucamus/pseuds/DarthFucamus
Summary: For the Smutember challenge day 12 prompt: fantasyI probably misunderstood the prompt, but whatever!Tamira, a lowly tech with minor Force ability assigned to the Finalizer’s bridge, is harboring a crush on Commander Kylo Ren, to the point that it has started to affect her work. In order to better serve the Order, she must manage her distraction.





	The Problem

Tamira the First Order systems tech was in trouble. Or, she would be if things continued the way they had.

Every time the Commander was anywhere near, she could feel him without having to see him. It was one of the side effects of her particular Force sensitivity, as weak as it was, she was sure of it.

The extra sense itself was not unique, and certainly nothing remarkable, except, it seemed, for how attuned it was to Kylo Ren.

The first time she brought it up at the bi-monthly meeting with the other Nominals, First Order personnel whose sensitivity to the Force was too negligible to warrant any consideration beyond a few additional training courses, they had looked at her like she was crazy.

She had assumed that everyone was instantly overcome by his aura when he entered a room. She didn't know she was the only one who could feel it when he was in a powerfully good, or bad, mood, (but only him). And not one other adept knew what it felt like when he looked her way, by chance and accident; the way his mysterious gaze swept over her like a hot, prickly wave.

So, she kept it to herself, worried that something might not be right about her.

Or, worse, that she might be harboring an involuntary, irrational attraction that had chosen to manifest itself in the worst possible way. It was completely disrupting: she couldn't ignore it, she had no defense against it, and the rumors that he could read minds only made the fear that it would be exposed that much worse. The Academy hadn't exactly trained them on how to deal with strange quirks of the Force like this, if that was even what it was.

All she could do was avoid him as much as possible. Of course, even in a closed environment the size of a small city like the Finalizer, she could only do so much. Especially when her assignment posted her so often at the tech stations on the bridge's lower level. If it weren't for her weak connection with the Force, it would have been fine; if she kept her head down, the only people she had to look at were the other techs. But it didn't matter.

The diversion he represented every time he was on the bridge, which was often enough, was beginning to affect her efficiency rating.

That day, the distraction culminated in a particularly mortifying moment when Commander Kylo Ren came down to the tech space below the Bridge walkway to observe the workstation readouts himself. She didn't need to see him to be affected by his presence, but the imposing physical shape he cut had the effect of multiplying the problem tenfold.

He'd asked a tech at a neighboring station a question, and Tamira had been so focused on him, that she'd cut in and answered the question herself.

When that black mask turned to her, silver lines glinting red and green in the light of the terminals, she thought she would combust then and there; Tamira could neither look away from the pitch blackness of his mask's visor nor could she speak. Her face burned, her heart stopped for three beats, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead, but his gaze paralyzed her as surely as if he were holding her there.

The eye contact lasted for only a few seconds before her neighbor (who himself gave her a questioning look) continued the conversation, pulling the Commander's attention away from her. But Tamira was left trembling and short of breath. She had felt Kylo Ren's scrutiny on her like a lead weight on her chest.

Her answer hadn't been wrong, but all the same, she'd spoken over a higher-ranking tech, directly to the Commander, without being spoken to first. It was beyond mortifying.

So, as any good employee, or soldier, would do, she decided to take whatever measures she could to rid herself of the detrimental interference. Her duty was to the Order, first and foremost, and she needed to see to it that she served to the best of her ability.

After her shift (mercifully free of any further incident), Tamira went to the Ops level canteen with her shift mates to settle her nerves over a Corellian whiskey. Or three.

As they chattered about their assignments or their current mission to the Devaron system, Tamira tuned them out, focused on her level of intoxication. She would need it for what she was going to do.

After the third drink, she politely turned down the cute civilian bartender who was coming onto her and left the canteen alone.

The way back was unsteady, but she maintained her composure all the way to her quarters.

They were tiny, with her bed in the same space as her console, but nice, and she appreciated the solitude that came with her recent promotion. She dimmed her lights and after checking her work notifications at her access console, put some music on.

She chose something bass-heavy and dark, something slow and intense. Something, perhaps, that felt like him in some inexplicable way. She wasn't worried about disturbing the neighbors, thanks to the soundproofing material in the grey durasteel walls, so she kept the volume loud enough to silence all but her most basic thoughts.

As intoxicated as she was, it didn't take long for those thoughts to fix on a certain tall, dark, and mysterious Force adept whose face she had never even seen.

Before anything else, it was his vocoder-distorted voice that came to her, pouring over her like gravel and tar. Laying naked on her bed, Tamira could almost hear it in the throbbing beats of the music, whose vibrations traveled up through the bed and into her body.

She closed her eyes. Unlike the situation earlier, she wanted to be held in place by his concealed gaze, and now she let herself give into that want.

Thanks to the whiskey, the lighting, and the music, Tamira was able to imagine this so clearly that her body started to respond to her own touch. Her mind started crafting an increasingly intense fantasy behind her closed eyes.

As she lay there, exposed on her bed, she imagined the door to her quarters beeping as someone unlocked it from the hallway. A Commander would, of course, have no issue bypassing the security access.

The door whispered open, and the shadowy figure standing there nearly filled it. Behind Kylo Ren's mask, she could feel his eyes on her. Tamira's breath caught in her throat, and a tremulous thrill began to burn in her belly and chest, to think of his scrutiny on her nudity. Would he find her desirable? She had no idea, for all she knew he wasn't even into women or anyone at all. But it didn't matter.

This vision entered her tiny quarters, his stature immense and dark against the overwhelming beiges and greys of her walls and furnishings. The door closed behind him. He was silent, but his power hovered invisibly around him. She knew why he was there, and a wash of delicious fear spread downward between her legs as he closed the short distance between her and the door.

" **Bridge Tech Daws,** " he said in that deep fucking voice, now looming over her bed. " **You spoke out of turn today… so soon after your assignment here. Have you already forgotten the chain of command on this starship?** "

Tamira bit her lip, and her hands fisted the bed cover at her sides as this Commander braced his hands on the bed on either side of her shoulders, his biceps straining against the fabric of his long sleeves. His mask peered down at her, and he was so close she could see his chest moving as he breathed.

" **I've sensed your thoughts about me,** " he purred, low and dangerous. Gracefully despite his long limbs, he climbed onto Tamira's small bed, making the mattress sink under his weight, his body poised on his hands and knees above her. " **They are profane and irreverent. The Order's statutes regarding fraternization across ranks are clear…** "

Though it was her own hand that slid down to her neck, it was the creamy smooth leather of Kylo Ren's black glove that squeezed her throat gently.

" **At least… that is what General Hux would think. But he doesn't need to know… he is closed to the Force. He can't sense the bond between us.** "

It was absurd, certainly nothing like it would be in reality, but she was drunk enough not to care.

The hand trailed down to her collarbone, and to her breast, squeezing it with trembling relish and Tamira arched her back, as though that were him mere inches above her. Her other hand slid down to her upper thigh, stroked it, thinking of his groin hovering so near it. She tried to picture what his hardness would feel like. It was an indecent thing, to think about a superior officer's cock, but she let herself have this. It was her duty to relieve her distractions.

But this Kylo Ren didn't let her touch him. Instead, his gloved hand clamped around her wrist, pinned it over her head. With her wrist restrained this way, her head tipped back. Her breaths were coming faster, the feeling of being at his mercy enough to get her pulse racing.

" **Impertinent tech,** " he growled, letting go of her wrist. It stayed there obediently over her head. Perhaps, she imagined, held immobile with the Force. Her other hand slipped down between her legs, and she thought of him touching her there with his glove, probing coarsely for the moisture that was now bordering on excessive. He slipped a finger into her, too fast to give pleasure. She saw him rubbing his thumb and finger together, her arousal slick between them. " **I know what you want. But you won't get it. Instead, I will show you how I deal with undisciplined personnel on my ship.** "

She'd seen flashes of the strange weapon he kept at his side, though she hadn't chanced staring at it enough to see it in detail. She knew it was powerful, and that it was something he'd made himself. A lightsaber like the Sith of old, capable of generating a fiery blade that could melt durasteel or decapitate a rancor. She'd never seen it activated, though she'd heard descriptions of it from some of the troops who'd seen him training or destroying ship equipment in moments of anger.

She saw him detaching it now, and in her imagination, its shape was smooth and long, metal shining like the bands on his mask. Trepidation filled her when he removed it from his belt, fully aware how easily it could end her life… but the Commander turned the un-activated hilt so that the weapon's dangerous end faced away from her. He drew it down between her breasts, and over her stomach teasingly.

" **Do you want this?** " he asked, smooth and dark, almost mischievous, as he dragged the butt of the hilt between her legs. In reality, her own fingers slipped between her labia and began to nudge her clit, but in her mind, he was doing this with the weapon's handle.

"Yes, Commander," she mouthed silently, brows pinched and pleading, thighs falling open. With the alcohol in her system, and her imagination running wild, she could almost feel the prickling on her face and chest, as if he were truly near her now. The music thrummed down to her core, and Kylo Ren dragged the smooth metal along her folds, and back to her clit, massaging the nub with the hard butt. Her fingers pinched and rubbed through the slickness between her thighs, and she chewed on her lip as the warmth grew.

He leaned close, enough that she could feel the cold, smooth surface of his mask's muzzle on her cheek.

" **Beg me,** " he said in a harsh, distorted whisper.

Tamira started panting, turning her face toward where she imagined his helmet to be.

"Please, sir…" she whispered, this time aloud, though the pulsing melody playing over her sound system drowned it.

" **Please what,** " he hissed, drawing up to wait for her answer.

"Please fuck me with your lightsaber," she said, feeling foolish as hell despite being alone. Her face burned hotter as she imagined him taking pleasure in her embarrassment, though behind that impassive black mask, he could be feeling anything.

" **Since you asked so nicely…** " he said. Tamira slipped two fingers inside of herself rough and deep, and then considering the size of the weapon's hilt, pushed a third in with them. The fit was tight, and she had to bend her spine to reach, but she was given completely to her fantasy, now.

Kylo Ren watched her face as he pushed the hilt of his lightsaber deep inside of her cunt until it hit the back wall and her cervix. Her muscles fluttered around the intrusion and clenched, and she sucked in a sharp breath. He drew the length out of her, warmer from her body heat and slippery with her own fluids, before ramming it back in. She shuddered and writhed, panting. He did it again, faster, harder, and again.

Brutally, Kylo Ren penetrated her with the hilt of the weapon, his own breaths becoming more vocal with his effort, the bed quaking with the motions as he did it again and again. She could see the hardness between his own legs that he was enjoying violating her in this way, and in her wanton lust she gasped his name, out loud this time.

The friction churning against her inner walls generated heat, nearly scalding, as her cunt muscles tightened, gripping the intruding fingers, grasping for more. Her unoccupied hand twisted in the bedcover by her head, pulled it out of its neat tuck.

Tamira's thumb jammed against her clit as she fucked herself on the three middle fingers, and her pinky brushed over the bud of her asshole. She could hear the moist squelching of her fluids despite the music, and her own vocalizations started to come with every forceful inhale.

Kylo Ren balanced himself over her on his knees as he continued to ravish her, and with his other hand, the warm leather gripped her jaw, forced her to look up at him. She felt his gaze on her, like molten durasteel, gluing her in place, compelling her to give herself to him completely. 

Her hips strained wide. With their gazes locked in her imagination, and him pumping her cunt with the lightsaber hilt, Tamira climaxed, hard.

A wash of pleasure burst over her, and her eyes rolled back. Around her frozen hand, her pelvic floor muscles convulsed, tensing and releasing with the shockwaves, and she felt her spine ripple and arch as all the tension in her body dissolved at once.

It took her a few minutes to come down from it, panting and sweaty. She didn't think she'd had such a satisfying orgasm in years, not with any of the partners she'd taken to bed, and certainly not since her promotion and increased workload had shifted her focus elsewhere.

The alcohol in her system must have made the fantasy that much more intense, because even as she lay there in post-orgasmic languor, the imagined sensation of Kylo Ren's aura took longer to fade.

\----------------------------

She slept well that night, but she woke with a small headache thanks to the intoxication, and ended up leaving her quarters a few minutes later than she meant to to get to the bridge.

On the way to the turbolift on this level, she had to admit that she felt better, despite her hangover. She just hoped there would be no repercussions for her tardiness.

The lift stopped a few levels above the personnel deck to let another passenger on.

She knew before the doors opened who was on the other side. Kylo Ren, fully dressed in his hood and cloak, stepped onto the lift in front of her, facing the doors. The interior space seemed to be swallowed up by him, and she unconsciously took a step back as the lift resumed its ascent.

Inside her uniform, Tamira started to sweat. Images of what she'd done the night before kept playing mercilessly in her head, and she tried desperately to think of anything else. The thoughts were intrusive, though, and came whether she invited them or not.

She tugged at the collar of her uniform jacket and tried to swallow the dry lump that had formed in her throat. With his back turned, her eyes were locked on him. They drew down from his broad shoulders, set back with an easy, confident posture, to his back, and then down to his heavy black boots.

The air pressure inside the lift seemed to grow until she felt it pressing against her eardrums and sinuses. Her eyes started to burn and water. She could smell him, subtly scented like the detergent used in the laundries, but something else, too. Smoke, or ash.

He shifted his weight on his feet slightly, and his fists tightened at his side.

They were nearing the bridge level when the Commander reached out and touched the turbolift panel, halting it between floors.

Tamira's eye's shot wide, and she forgot to breathe.

Kylo Ren turned his head slightly, just a few degrees to the left so she could see the front of his mask around his hood.

" **I expect you to control your thoughts with more care as you attend your duties today, tech,** " he said with a quiet warning in his tone. " **And afterward. Do you understand?** "

Tamira's bladder quivered, threatened to release, but she kept everything clenched so tight it started to hurt. Her mind raced, unable to fix on a coherent thought as she realized that her worst fear had come to pass. 

The Commander was waiting for a response, his hand hovering over the turbolift controls.

"Ye... yes, Commander," she stuttered, all the heat gone from her face. She felt clammy, woozy, and faint, and she realized she hadn't filled her burning lungs in a long moment. Kylo Ren said nothing, nor did he nod, but he faced forward once more, and she pulled in a shaky, silent breath.

His hand moved to activate the controls, but again stopped just short of them, almost hesitant. To Tamira's disbelief, he turned his body slightly to the right, and his other hand adjusted his cloak, pulling it back subtly.

Gleaming metal at his waist glinted in the diffuse lighting and caught her eye. The hilt of his lightsaber, she realized with some shock, made of dark burnished metal rather than the shiny chrome of his mask. Her eyes flickered up to his head, confusion warring with her humiliation, but it was hidden in his hood and facing the door in front of him.

" **Take note,** " he said evenly. " **The hilt of my weapon is not smooth, but jagged, and suited only for combat.** "

Tamira's mouth slowly dropped open as he let his cloak fall back into place. There was no mistaking what he was talking about, though why he'd thought to tell her that, she couldn't begin to imagine. He hit the controls again, and the turbolift began ascending smoothly.

Neither of them said another word. When the doors opened on the lower bridge, she stepped around him and hurried to her station, avoiding looking at anyone else.

Kylo Ren exited on the level above. She could sense him, but the feeling wasn't as intense as it usually was, as though he were keeping a tight rein on his own Force presence.

Despite what had happened, Tamira's shock faded as she fell into the familiarity of her job. And as the day continued without incident, she could almost look back on the exchange with good humor. Obviously, if she'd been in trouble he would have made it clear.

After her shift, she made her way back to the canteen with the bridge tech crew, all prepared to enjoy their day of rest before the new work week. This time, when the cute bartender flirted with her, she took him up on his proposition with zeal.

She would serve the First Order to the best of her ability, no matter what it took.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please let me know what you think!


End file.
